[JE] [JEF #5] Universal Appeal 2/10
Title: JE Fleet V: Universal Appeal 2/10
Series: JE Fleet
Fandom: KAT-TUN
Pairing: Akame
Rating: R (m/m activity)
Genre: AU, crack, sci-fi
Word count: 35,850
Disclaimer: Not mine, damnit.
Summary: The JE Fleet ship KAT-TUN goes AWOL in more ways than one.
A/N: Takes place straight after III, but won't make any sense unless you've read IV, so if you're new to the series, you might want to read them in order.
Chapter 2
Even for a Jaguar-class ship with more fancy modifications than one of Koki's shirts, home was still very far away, involving multiple jumps and several stops to check that they were going in the right direction. (They weren't.)
Every time they dropped out of hyperspace, Junno checked for messages, but still, the only communications relayed to them were sports scores (Kame had a subscription), details of insurance reductions for the over-fifties (somehow, Nakamaru's name had gotten on their mailing list), generic junk mail and a fascinating article entitled, "So, You Want to Start Your Own Harem', which was addressed to Ueda.
"Still nothing." Jin slumped down in the left captain's seat, becoming more agitated with each jump. "Can we send out a message ourselves?"
In the right captain's seat, Kame was catching up on the results of the latest game in the Inner Planet Series and only half-listening to his partner. "No point," he said absently. "We're not that far now, and I'd rather not have a welcoming committee when we arrive. There's- how the hell did they manage that?"
"Huh?"
"The Lunar City Lunatics," Kame said, thrusting the datapad under Jin's nose. "They beat the New York Yankees!"
"So?" Jin found baseball entertaining enough if he happened to be watching it - particularly if Kame was playing - but he didn't know much about the teams.
"So, it means the Lunatics have broken a three hundred year losing streak. Every season, they've lost more players to injury and illness - and occasionally death - than every other team put together! Last I heard, the best pitcher they'd had in a decade got knocked out by a fly ball at someone else's game, and they were debating about whether or not to switch off the life-support."
Jin winced. "That's some bad luck."
"Looks like they've finally managed to turn things around," Kame said. "The last few games should be interesting. Hey, are we close enough to tune in to the entertainment broadcasts?" His question was addressed to the bridge in general, for although the two captains excelled at vanishing into their own private world, they were, in reality, surrounded by crew members, some of whom were taking bets on how long it would be before the pair began one of their infamous squabbles, to be followed by the inevitable and far more pleasurable making up.
"We're about to drop out of hyperspace by Pluto," Nakamaru said. "Might get something then."
Kame listened for the subtle change in the whine of the engines as they dropped to sub-light speeds, far enough from Pluto that they wouldn't risk collision, and reached for the controls of the main viewscreen. It no longer hurt so much for him to look out on the universe. He knew he wouldn't get anything from the Inner Planets, not at that distance, but there was a chance they'd be carrying the games on Pluto's networks too. After all, sports were universal.
Reception was fuzzy despite Junno's best efforts, but after they determined that what appeared to be static was actually news coverage of a severe snowstorm, they had greater success locating actual channels. Pluto's Home Shopping Network didn't have much to offer - mostly alcohol, which the KAT-TUN usually had in ample supply - and the only general entertainment channel showed nothing but re-runs of 'Tonkatsu!', an old drama slated by critics and animal activists alike for its story about a hair-dressing pig.
Finally, they hit on the sports channel. Possibly.
"That's not a bat, is it?" Koki said, peering at the screen. "You don't hold it that low."
Kame strained to make it out through the fuzz. "Maybe we've found the cricket?"
"It's too thin to be a cricket bat," Jin said. "Besides, you don't use them to hit bowling balls, do you?"
"I don't think that's a bowling ball..." Junno, who'd played electronic versions of every sport going at least once, searched his memory for something that might fit. "I think it's curling," he said at last.
Kame switched off in disgust. "So much for that idea. I'll just have to wait until we get closer to Earth."
"I know how we could kill time till we get there-" Jin began, but Kame shushed him and left to find a snack.
"Everyone ready for the next jump?" Nakamaru addressed his question to the ship as a whole, over the comm. "Nobody changing their contact lenses, or applying eyeliner, or doing anything else that could be very painful when the ship shudders?"
A guilty-looking trainee standing by the navicomp hastily pocketed his eyeliner pencil.
"Don't take us right to Earth," Jin said. "Bring us out by Red Spot Terminal."
Kame returned with his strawberry Pocky just in time to hear this. "Why stop at Jupiter? Souvenir shopping?"
Jin's smile was grim. "Because it's as close as we can get to Earth and still maintain some independence."
Jupiter's governor, though a stickler for the rules and tough on any sort of organised crime, nevertheless insisted that Jupiter and its satellites, both natural and manmade, retain an element of neutrality in Sol System affairs. Even the USN had only a tiny base in the area - one used so infrequently that it doubled as a ramen stand.
"You want to test the waters." Kame nibbled thoughtfully on a stick. "The only people around Pluto are like us - our former selves, at any rate. Red Spot Terminal would be more...civilised."
"And it's close enough to the Inner Planets that the news will be more reliable," Ueda said, "though not so much that we're likely to be spotted."
"Exactly." Jin shot a grateful glance round at his crew. He meant to try contacting Pi - his best friend, not his commanding officer - but under the circumstances, he preferred to do it a nice, safe distance from the nearest naval base.
The next jump took the KAT-TUN into Jupiter's local space; Nakamaru moved them slowly into the Arrivals zone around Red Spot Terminal and made the arrangements with the station authorities for them to dock.
"They're asking for length of stay," he said. "What should I tell them?"
"Must be a new process," Koki said. "They never used to care, so long as you didn't try to leave without telling them."
Kame caught Jin's eye and shrugged. "Two days, maybe? We don't have to stick to it."
Two days it was. While Nakamaru brought them smoothly into Bay 94, Jin attempted to compose a message to Yamapi. It didn't take him long. He thought it was best to leave out all mention of work, make the message casual and friendly and devoid of all point. He also made it text-only.
"You haven't even said where we are," Kame noted, reading over Jin's shoulder. "Unless I'm missing a coded message somewhere between you asking after his health, and telling him you made it to the final level of Cronos Crusaders without losing a single life. Which I still don't believe, by the way."
"I've got witnesses." Jin hit the 'transmit' button. Hopefully, somewhere in the Sol System, Yamapi would be alerted at some point by a beeping on his datband. "You think I'm being paranoid?"
"No, but you've just sent a message out from this ship. He could simply track it back and find you anyway. We don't have the most inconspicuous vessel in the universe."
"At least it's not pink." Which was more than could be said for Yamapi's flagship, the Pin.
The KAT-TUN shuddered briefly as the magnetic clamps took effect, then fell still. "We're docked," Nakamaru announced over the comm. "Anyone disembarking?"
There was a sudden rush for the bridge doors, which Koki impeded by planting himself in front of the exit and gracing the offenders with his toughest glare. Once the laughter had died down, Kame attempted to impose some sort of order on his crew.
"Nobody goes anywhere until Jin and I return," he said, and none of the trainees dared argue with him.
Ueda did, of course. "Why is it our two captains are always so keen to look for trouble together?"
"We're not looking for trouble," Jin protested.
"It just finds you, somehow," Ueda said. "Were you ever cursed as a child?"
"Frequently, I'm sure," Kame said, earning himself a half-hearted slap on the head from his partner. "But we're just going out to see what's been happening in the two months since we left, maybe check if anyone's been looking for us. When we get back, anyone who wants to go stretch their legs can do so - in pairs or more. I don't want anyone getting lost when we're on our way home."
"Will you at least let a couple of my guys follow you?" Koki asked. "Just to watch your backs."
Koki's Security trainees looked so eager to assist, Kame almost didn't have the heart to say no. "It's the most law-abiding orbital station in the universe - you think anything's going to happen to us?"
"It's my job to think something's going to happen to you," Koki pointed out, but he relented in the end - after Kame turned on the charm. Jin looked away.
Despite Kame's confidence that they would be perfectly safe, he and Jin weren't going anywhere unarmed. Both men had their blasters with gene-locked triggers, custom-made for them by Matsumoto Jun, the ultra-fashionable weapons designer for ARASHI - Agency of Really Awesome, Smart and Handsome Individuals - military intelligence disguised as a talent agency. Kame liked to keep a stunner handy too, just in case; both weapons tucked discreetly under his black leather jacket.
"I doubt anyone will mistake you for JE Fleet captains," Ueda said, laughing, "but keep your comm badges concealed anyway. No sense in advertising you're not tourists."
"You don't think the bulldog pins look touristy?" Jin quite liked his.
"I've been thinking of changing them," Junno said. "How do you guys feel about wearing miniature N-5000 controllers?" He received a mix of blank stares and insults for this suggestion.
Kame had a better idea. "How about strawberries?"
"Too cute." Jin ignored the strawberry-print band round his own wrist, a present from Kame and a recent addition to the cluster of silver bangles. "I think we should have winged hearts."
"Of course, winged hearts wouldn't be cute at all," Kame said, totally deadpan. He addressed the bridge at large. "While we're out, everyone have a think about how to redesign the comm badges, and we'll have a competition later. Remember, nothing obscene, because we have to wear them in public."
Amidst mutterings of how Kame was a fine one to talk, given his lack of drawing ability, the two captains stepped out into Red Spot Terminal and set out for the food court by mutual unspoken agreement. Replicator fare was all very well, but one did want a bit of variety from time to time.
Red Spot Terminal took the shape of an octagon rather than the conventional circle, with the docking bays lined up around the outer rim. In the event that it became necessary to jettison the docks, each of the eight segments could be manipulated individually. Each had a separate path to the hub, and it was along one of these that Kame and Jin walked.
"Guess someone finally decided to take all the adverts out," Jin said. "I almost miss seeing dozens of posters on the walls, trying to lure me to the theatre."
Kame shook his head. "I don't; I've had enough of musicals for a while. Koki keeps making me play a boxer in a holosuite one with him."
"A boxer doesn't sound so bad..."
"Even one who runs off to join the circus, gets chased by ninja across the rooftops and winds up losing one of his closest friends?"
Jin blinked. "Sorry, did you say this was a musical?"
"Forget it."
They were alone in the passage, walls a tastefully bland beige and floor lacking the usual scuff marks. Kame felt almost relieved he'd cleaned his boots earlier that week. The barren expanse of wall was only broken by the directional signs, but since it was necessary to reach the hub before choosing a destination, these had no variety save the occasional change of colour.
"At least the food court's still here," Jin said as they approached the exit. "You can't miss that sign."
True enough. The bright orange and yellow arrows were enough to blind any passerby with their flashing. Jin allowed himself to be momentarily dazzled, but Kame squinted to read the text beneath.
"NEUTRAL ZONE", it read.
-----
"I don't recognise any of these restaurants," Jin said when they were standing in the middle of the food court, looking for a free table. "You think they've had a change of management?"
"Or a change of eating habits."
Kame scanned the area in search of a familiar eatery. The food court was busy as always, many of the tables occupied by obvious tourists with their 'Core Tours' T-shirts, proud survivors of the wild, breakneck ride through Jupiter's gaseous interior that was one of the major attractions of the system. There were a few courting couples, gazing into each other's eyes while their lunches cooled and congealed, and a handful of families trying to keep small children from tripping anyone carrying a tray.
Two parties stood out. Beneath the blue arches, a group of four men and two women wore severe black and white uniforms and obvious sidearms, keeping a steady watch on a similar party of seven (three male, three female, one indeterminate), also heavily armed but wearing such an assortment of styles and colours that Kame couldn't consider their attire a uniform. They glared at each other across the sea of diners, taking only token mouthfuls of their own food.
Of course, the only free table was between the two groups. Kame groaned inaudibly and steered Jin towards it.
Still there were some benefits, Kame discovered when he sat down. They had an unobstructed view of the giant screens along the dessert wall, one of which was showing half a dozen split-screened sports - including baseball.
"Any preference?" Jin asked.
Kame decided to follow the example of the armed diners. You never knew when you'd have to abandon your plate. "Something uncomplicated."
While Kame guarded the table, Jin located a sandwich place and bought them both lunch, paying in Jovian coin and wondering when it became legal to sell real meat in the station. The ersatz stuff had always been clearly marked, but there was no indication that any of the meat-related sandwich fillings was less than one hundred per cent genuine dead animal.
He threw in a couple of juices, added some napkins to the tray and slowly made his way back to Kame, hoping he wasn't trampling any kids underfoot.
Kame was too distracted by the screens to give Jin more than cursory thanks, but Jin knew well how much his partner loved baseball. It had been Kame's ambition, as a kid, to become a professional baseball player - and he'd been good, too. But lack of money in the family had meant he'd gone straight into work, his own dreams relegated to second place. He was living out some of those dreams now, but he'd always miss baseball, and Jin wished there was something he could do about it.
"Watch the group on the left."
"Huh?" Kame's sudden muttered instruction caught Jin by surprise. "Which group?"
"The one with the itchy trigger fingers."
Jin sneaked a peek. The uniformed party were glaring openly at the others, now, hands twitching over their weapons. "Why do I always end up in firefights at restaurants?"
"You're not the only one. Jin, tell me if that uniform looks familiar to you at all?"
White shirt, black pants and jacket, cuffs rolled up to the elbows the way Kame had... "LIPS?"
Kame nodded. "Maybe. There's a Jovian branch, unless things have changed since I quit. These guys might be part of it."
Lunar/InterPlanetary Security acted as a police force for crimes between the stars of the Sol System, upholding the law wherever lunar or planetary borders were crossed. Kame's career as a LIPS officer had been brief and not particularly satisfying, but it had led him to Jin. Admittedly it had been via a holographic shootout, a tractor beam, a stolen diamond and a drugged-up interrogation that had left Kame stuck with a chair fetish, but still...
Jin smiled around a mouthful of bread. "Maybe the other group are smuggling Trans-Saturnian rum or something."
"It's a good spot to make a deal," Kame said. "Public place, lots of people, decent food...these sandwiches are actually pretty good. Is this real chicken?"
"Yeah, I don't know how long they-"
The remainder of Jin's reply was drowned out by a roar from the table of potential felons. Not, thankfully, a prelude to a gunfight, but to a celebration, as the seven of them began cheering and high-fiving each other. Kame followed their gaze to the screen and discovered why.
"Must be out-of-towners," he said. "Or maybe they just hate the Yankees. You remember me telling you they were beaten lately by the Lunar City Lunatics? Those are highlights from the game."
Jin tried to divide his attention between the screen, his lunch and all the armed diners. It wasn't easy. Good thing he hadn't bought pasta. "That batter in the no.2 jersey - is that the same guy they keep showing? He's amazing!"
"Yeah, same guy. He's obviously the reason for their sudden change of luck." Kame's tone was a mix of awe and envy, with a hint of sadness for what might've been. "Look at that home run!"
Almost everyone at the tables was watching the screen now - and those who weren't were hardcore diners, staring only into their plates, as if the secrets of the universe might be hiding under the next slice of pizza. Jin couldn't be sure, but he thought some of them were drooling, and not over the food.
In the final shot of the clip, no.2 turned to the camera, flashed the crowd a double peace sign, and treated them to a grin so full of warmth and enthusiasm you could've started a fire with it. Half the diners sighed dreamily at the sight.
Kame didn't.
Neither did Jin, but then, he got to see Kame smile like that all the time.
"Why? How?" Kame gasped, lost for words. "Who?"
"You," Jin said quietly. "It's you."
The name on the screen confirmed it. Kamenashi Kazuya. Same kanji, same age, same bright smile.
Live coverage of a low-gravity golf game replaced the baseball highlights and the crowd lost interest in everything but the next mouthful. Kame ignored his lunch, still staring sightlessly at the screen and his own fading ghost.
"Doppelganger?" Jin suggested. "They say everyone in the universe has one."
Jin's voice snapped Kame out of it. "With the exact same name? I don't think so, Jin. What are the odds of that?"
"Better than the odds of you secretly having a career as the star player of a baseball team based on Earth's moon, when we haven't even been near the Sol System in ages!"
"You might have a point," Kame conceded. "Those clips were from a few weeks ago. I couldn't be in two places at once, even if we could increase the KAT-TUN's teleport range."
"It's not one of your brothers pretending to be you, is it? You guys look pretty similar in your photos."
Kame was beginning to feel sick, and he didn't think the chicken sandwich had anything to do with it. "They're not that good. I'm not even sure I'm that good."
Jin shrugged. "Evidently you are."
"He is."
Both captains turned round to discover one of the brightly-dressed women standing by their table, hand no longer gripping her blaster and enough allure in her smile and deep, dark eyes to make a dead man sit up and take notice.
"He's that good at everything," she purred. "Aren't you, Kamenashi?"
Jin would've been suspicious, had Kame not been so obviously in the dark as to why this strange woman was reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. There was no mistaking his stunned expression for encouragement, or even recognition.
"Do I know you?" Kame asked hesitantly.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten already." The allure faded slightly. "But I suppose you did drink a lot of wine that night. I'll forgive you."
"That's very kind of you, I'm sure, but who are you?"
Jin wanted to know the same thing. "And why are you cozying up to my Kame?"
"Yours?" The woman arched an eyebrow. "I did hear rumours he'd taken up with some handsome young thing. Do you play baseball too?"
Kame didn't like the way the stranger began appraising Jin, running her eyes over every inch of him and mentally grading his appeal. "Only with me."
"He doesn't bat for my team, then? Pity." Her eyes abandoned Jin mid-leer.
"Hang on a minute!" Jin dropped his protest when Kame elbowed him in the side.
"Don't argue," he muttered to Jin. "Let's not complicate things."
"But there's nothing complicated about this at all, sweetie." Their unwanted guest regarded them with something approaching pity. "You said if I had any more of the good stuff, you wouldn't mind a taste." She lowered her voice. "My friends and I just so happen to have a couple of bottles in our possession...if you're willing to pay. Got milk?"
Kame worked hard to keep the surprise from his face. Jin's casual, offhand comment had been correct - Trans-Saturnian rum smugglers, indeed. Those who drank the wretched stuff craved only three things: more rum, money to buy more rum, and, for reasons known only to the ring-hopping bandits who'd created it in the first place, vast quantities of milk.
"Not interested." Even when he'd been making a career out of flouting the law, he hadn't been one for illegal substances. Legal poisons were safer. "Giving up alcohol. Doctor's orders."
"Oh, I don't think so, honey." Silken tones became steel. "We sealed the deal with a kiss. My friends over there were so looking forward to meeting you."
Jin didn't like the way the aforementioned friends were rising from their chairs, faces grim. "They don't look so delighted about it."
"Your friends will have to settle for scamming someone else," Kame said. "I said I'm not interested."
He picked up his tray, intending to dispose of the contents in the correct bins, but both he and the remains of his lunch were sent flying by a rough hand reaching past to point a blaster at his new acquaintance.
The owner of the hand, Kame noted on his way to meet the floor, had a LIPS insignia pinned to his uniform. Though the officer's face was unfamiliar, his attitude brought back many unpleasant memories. "Tessa, Tessa, Tessa. Didn't you hear me the last time I told you not to do business here?"
Another pair of LIPS officers approached from behind, sandwiching Jin between them when he tried to duck out. "Not without giving us a cut, sweetheart," the shorter of the two said.
One of Tessa's buddies pulled a nerve disruptor from his jacket. "You want your cut, Kumori? You can come right over here and take it."
The nerve disruptor had an immediate effect on everyone who noticed it. Ten seconds later, anyone who could get clear had done so, and the rest had ducked behind counters, overturned tables and potted plants of reasonable girth. No one wanted to be hit by a stray blast from a nerve disruptor. They were illegal for a good reason.
Jin hoped the LIPS officers next to him weren't planning on using him for cover. "Uh...since we're not buying and no one's making any deals, how about you both put your guns down and finish your lunches?"
"Huh?" Kumori seemed surprised to find Jin still there. "Hey, don't you work for Kitagawa?"
"Not anymore, he doesn't." Kame scrambled to his feet, silently apologising to the cleaning staff for leaving his tray on the floor, and pushed through to grab Jin's arm. "And we were just leaving."
"Uh uh." Tessa shook her head. "We had a deal, Kamenashi. Didn't anyone ever teach you not to break your word to a lady?"
The LIPS officers snickered. "She's no lady," Kumori said. "By any definition of the word."
"And for someone who's supposed to uphold the law, you're not exactly a shining example yourself," Nerve Disruptor Guy said.
Kame could've told him LIPS officers were hardly the most upstanding bunch in the universe. "We don't have a deal, I don't know who you are, and I don't want any trouble." He excused himself, beginning a slow retreat.
"I don't like cheats." Tessa's gun came up, aiming straight at Kame.
It was obvious this argument had been going on long before the KAT-TUN had docked at the station. Kame had no intention of sticking around to see who won. "And I don't like getting involved in someone else's fight. Come on, Jin."
Jin had been reaching under his jacket for his own blaster; Kame caught his eye to convince him that this would be a very bad idea. Anyone who happened to be holding a weapon was a potential target. Fortunately for Kame, Tessa never did get to pull the trigger on him - Kumori fired first.
"Whatever you do, don't shoot anyone," Kame muttered as he dragged Jin through a cluster of overturned tables. "I think they've been looking for an excuse to open fire on each other for a long time, and we just provided it."
Jin ducked just in time to avoid an unwanted haircut. "Aren't we nice?"
Shots flew across the food court, separating tables from chairs, straws from sodas, and hungry diners from their lunches. Fear did wonders to cure the appetite, however. Running for one's life generally took priority over finishing those last few spoons of curry.
Stuck in the middle of all this, the two JE Fleet captains attempted to work their way towards the far edge of the food court, hoping to reach the exit to the shopping complex. Fate, better known as the Red Spot Terminal security team, intervened.
Jin hated being stunned.
Series: JE Fleet
Fandom: KAT-TUN
Pairing: Akame
Rating: R (m/m activity)
Genre: AU, crack, sci-fi
Word count: 35,850
Disclaimer: Not mine, damnit.
Summary: The JE Fleet ship KAT-TUN goes AWOL in more ways than one.
A/N: Takes place straight after III, but won't make any sense unless you've read IV, so if you're new to the series, you might want to read them in order.
Chapter 2
Even for a Jaguar-class ship with more fancy modifications than one of Koki's shirts, home was still very far away, involving multiple jumps and several stops to check that they were going in the right direction. (They weren't.)
Every time they dropped out of hyperspace, Junno checked for messages, but still, the only communications relayed to them were sports scores (Kame had a subscription), details of insurance reductions for the over-fifties (somehow, Nakamaru's name had gotten on their mailing list), generic junk mail and a fascinating article entitled, "So, You Want to Start Your Own Harem', which was addressed to Ueda.
"Still nothing." Jin slumped down in the left captain's seat, becoming more agitated with each jump. "Can we send out a message ourselves?"
In the right captain's seat, Kame was catching up on the results of the latest game in the Inner Planet Series and only half-listening to his partner. "No point," he said absently. "We're not that far now, and I'd rather not have a welcoming committee when we arrive. There's- how the hell did they manage that?"
"Huh?"
"The Lunar City Lunatics," Kame said, thrusting the datapad under Jin's nose. "They beat the New York Yankees!"
"So?" Jin found baseball entertaining enough if he happened to be watching it - particularly if Kame was playing - but he didn't know much about the teams.
"So, it means the Lunatics have broken a three hundred year losing streak. Every season, they've lost more players to injury and illness - and occasionally death - than every other team put together! Last I heard, the best pitcher they'd had in a decade got knocked out by a fly ball at someone else's game, and they were debating about whether or not to switch off the life-support."
Jin winced. "That's some bad luck."
"Looks like they've finally managed to turn things around," Kame said. "The last few games should be interesting. Hey, are we close enough to tune in to the entertainment broadcasts?" His question was addressed to the bridge in general, for although the two captains excelled at vanishing into their own private world, they were, in reality, surrounded by crew members, some of whom were taking bets on how long it would be before the pair began one of their infamous squabbles, to be followed by the inevitable and far more pleasurable making up.
"We're about to drop out of hyperspace by Pluto," Nakamaru said. "Might get something then."
Kame listened for the subtle change in the whine of the engines as they dropped to sub-light speeds, far enough from Pluto that they wouldn't risk collision, and reached for the controls of the main viewscreen. It no longer hurt so much for him to look out on the universe. He knew he wouldn't get anything from the Inner Planets, not at that distance, but there was a chance they'd be carrying the games on Pluto's networks too. After all, sports were universal.
Reception was fuzzy despite Junno's best efforts, but after they determined that what appeared to be static was actually news coverage of a severe snowstorm, they had greater success locating actual channels. Pluto's Home Shopping Network didn't have much to offer - mostly alcohol, which the KAT-TUN usually had in ample supply - and the only general entertainment channel showed nothing but re-runs of 'Tonkatsu!', an old drama slated by critics and animal activists alike for its story about a hair-dressing pig.
Finally, they hit on the sports channel. Possibly.
"That's not a bat, is it?" Koki said, peering at the screen. "You don't hold it that low."
Kame strained to make it out through the fuzz. "Maybe we've found the cricket?"
"It's too thin to be a cricket bat," Jin said. "Besides, you don't use them to hit bowling balls, do you?"
"I don't think that's a bowling ball..." Junno, who'd played electronic versions of every sport going at least once, searched his memory for something that might fit. "I think it's curling," he said at last.
Kame switched off in disgust. "So much for that idea. I'll just have to wait until we get closer to Earth."
"I know how we could kill time till we get there-" Jin began, but Kame shushed him and left to find a snack.
"Everyone ready for the next jump?" Nakamaru addressed his question to the ship as a whole, over the comm. "Nobody changing their contact lenses, or applying eyeliner, or doing anything else that could be very painful when the ship shudders?"
A guilty-looking trainee standing by the navicomp hastily pocketed his eyeliner pencil.
"Don't take us right to Earth," Jin said. "Bring us out by Red Spot Terminal."
Kame returned with his strawberry Pocky just in time to hear this. "Why stop at Jupiter? Souvenir shopping?"
Jin's smile was grim. "Because it's as close as we can get to Earth and still maintain some independence."
Jupiter's governor, though a stickler for the rules and tough on any sort of organised crime, nevertheless insisted that Jupiter and its satellites, both natural and manmade, retain an element of neutrality in Sol System affairs. Even the USN had only a tiny base in the area - one used so infrequently that it doubled as a ramen stand.
"You want to test the waters." Kame nibbled thoughtfully on a stick. "The only people around Pluto are like us - our former selves, at any rate. Red Spot Terminal would be more...civilised."
"And it's close enough to the Inner Planets that the news will be more reliable," Ueda said, "though not so much that we're likely to be spotted."
"Exactly." Jin shot a grateful glance round at his crew. He meant to try contacting Pi - his best friend, not his commanding officer - but under the circumstances, he preferred to do it a nice, safe distance from the nearest naval base.
The next jump took the KAT-TUN into Jupiter's local space; Nakamaru moved them slowly into the Arrivals zone around Red Spot Terminal and made the arrangements with the station authorities for them to dock.
"They're asking for length of stay," he said. "What should I tell them?"
"Must be a new process," Koki said. "They never used to care, so long as you didn't try to leave without telling them."
Kame caught Jin's eye and shrugged. "Two days, maybe? We don't have to stick to it."
Two days it was. While Nakamaru brought them smoothly into Bay 94, Jin attempted to compose a message to Yamapi. It didn't take him long. He thought it was best to leave out all mention of work, make the message casual and friendly and devoid of all point. He also made it text-only.
"You haven't even said where we are," Kame noted, reading over Jin's shoulder. "Unless I'm missing a coded message somewhere between you asking after his health, and telling him you made it to the final level of Cronos Crusaders without losing a single life. Which I still don't believe, by the way."
"I've got witnesses." Jin hit the 'transmit' button. Hopefully, somewhere in the Sol System, Yamapi would be alerted at some point by a beeping on his datband. "You think I'm being paranoid?"
"No, but you've just sent a message out from this ship. He could simply track it back and find you anyway. We don't have the most inconspicuous vessel in the universe."
"At least it's not pink." Which was more than could be said for Yamapi's flagship, the Pin.
The KAT-TUN shuddered briefly as the magnetic clamps took effect, then fell still. "We're docked," Nakamaru announced over the comm. "Anyone disembarking?"
There was a sudden rush for the bridge doors, which Koki impeded by planting himself in front of the exit and gracing the offenders with his toughest glare. Once the laughter had died down, Kame attempted to impose some sort of order on his crew.
"Nobody goes anywhere until Jin and I return," he said, and none of the trainees dared argue with him.
Ueda did, of course. "Why is it our two captains are always so keen to look for trouble together?"
"We're not looking for trouble," Jin protested.
"It just finds you, somehow," Ueda said. "Were you ever cursed as a child?"
"Frequently, I'm sure," Kame said, earning himself a half-hearted slap on the head from his partner. "But we're just going out to see what's been happening in the two months since we left, maybe check if anyone's been looking for us. When we get back, anyone who wants to go stretch their legs can do so - in pairs or more. I don't want anyone getting lost when we're on our way home."
"Will you at least let a couple of my guys follow you?" Koki asked. "Just to watch your backs."
Koki's Security trainees looked so eager to assist, Kame almost didn't have the heart to say no. "It's the most law-abiding orbital station in the universe - you think anything's going to happen to us?"
"It's my job to think something's going to happen to you," Koki pointed out, but he relented in the end - after Kame turned on the charm. Jin looked away.
Despite Kame's confidence that they would be perfectly safe, he and Jin weren't going anywhere unarmed. Both men had their blasters with gene-locked triggers, custom-made for them by Matsumoto Jun, the ultra-fashionable weapons designer for ARASHI - Agency of Really Awesome, Smart and Handsome Individuals - military intelligence disguised as a talent agency. Kame liked to keep a stunner handy too, just in case; both weapons tucked discreetly under his black leather jacket.
"I doubt anyone will mistake you for JE Fleet captains," Ueda said, laughing, "but keep your comm badges concealed anyway. No sense in advertising you're not tourists."
"You don't think the bulldog pins look touristy?" Jin quite liked his.
"I've been thinking of changing them," Junno said. "How do you guys feel about wearing miniature N-5000 controllers?" He received a mix of blank stares and insults for this suggestion.
Kame had a better idea. "How about strawberries?"
"Too cute." Jin ignored the strawberry-print band round his own wrist, a present from Kame and a recent addition to the cluster of silver bangles. "I think we should have winged hearts."
"Of course, winged hearts wouldn't be cute at all," Kame said, totally deadpan. He addressed the bridge at large. "While we're out, everyone have a think about how to redesign the comm badges, and we'll have a competition later. Remember, nothing obscene, because we have to wear them in public."
Amidst mutterings of how Kame was a fine one to talk, given his lack of drawing ability, the two captains stepped out into Red Spot Terminal and set out for the food court by mutual unspoken agreement. Replicator fare was all very well, but one did want a bit of variety from time to time.
Red Spot Terminal took the shape of an octagon rather than the conventional circle, with the docking bays lined up around the outer rim. In the event that it became necessary to jettison the docks, each of the eight segments could be manipulated individually. Each had a separate path to the hub, and it was along one of these that Kame and Jin walked.
"Guess someone finally decided to take all the adverts out," Jin said. "I almost miss seeing dozens of posters on the walls, trying to lure me to the theatre."
Kame shook his head. "I don't; I've had enough of musicals for a while. Koki keeps making me play a boxer in a holosuite one with him."
"A boxer doesn't sound so bad..."
"Even one who runs off to join the circus, gets chased by ninja across the rooftops and winds up losing one of his closest friends?"
Jin blinked. "Sorry, did you say this was a musical?"
"Forget it."
They were alone in the passage, walls a tastefully bland beige and floor lacking the usual scuff marks. Kame felt almost relieved he'd cleaned his boots earlier that week. The barren expanse of wall was only broken by the directional signs, but since it was necessary to reach the hub before choosing a destination, these had no variety save the occasional change of colour.
"At least the food court's still here," Jin said as they approached the exit. "You can't miss that sign."
True enough. The bright orange and yellow arrows were enough to blind any passerby with their flashing. Jin allowed himself to be momentarily dazzled, but Kame squinted to read the text beneath.
"NEUTRAL ZONE", it read.
-----
"I don't recognise any of these restaurants," Jin said when they were standing in the middle of the food court, looking for a free table. "You think they've had a change of management?"
"Or a change of eating habits."
Kame scanned the area in search of a familiar eatery. The food court was busy as always, many of the tables occupied by obvious tourists with their 'Core Tours' T-shirts, proud survivors of the wild, breakneck ride through Jupiter's gaseous interior that was one of the major attractions of the system. There were a few courting couples, gazing into each other's eyes while their lunches cooled and congealed, and a handful of families trying to keep small children from tripping anyone carrying a tray.
Two parties stood out. Beneath the blue arches, a group of four men and two women wore severe black and white uniforms and obvious sidearms, keeping a steady watch on a similar party of seven (three male, three female, one indeterminate), also heavily armed but wearing such an assortment of styles and colours that Kame couldn't consider their attire a uniform. They glared at each other across the sea of diners, taking only token mouthfuls of their own food.
Of course, the only free table was between the two groups. Kame groaned inaudibly and steered Jin towards it.
Still there were some benefits, Kame discovered when he sat down. They had an unobstructed view of the giant screens along the dessert wall, one of which was showing half a dozen split-screened sports - including baseball.
"Any preference?" Jin asked.
Kame decided to follow the example of the armed diners. You never knew when you'd have to abandon your plate. "Something uncomplicated."
While Kame guarded the table, Jin located a sandwich place and bought them both lunch, paying in Jovian coin and wondering when it became legal to sell real meat in the station. The ersatz stuff had always been clearly marked, but there was no indication that any of the meat-related sandwich fillings was less than one hundred per cent genuine dead animal.
He threw in a couple of juices, added some napkins to the tray and slowly made his way back to Kame, hoping he wasn't trampling any kids underfoot.
Kame was too distracted by the screens to give Jin more than cursory thanks, but Jin knew well how much his partner loved baseball. It had been Kame's ambition, as a kid, to become a professional baseball player - and he'd been good, too. But lack of money in the family had meant he'd gone straight into work, his own dreams relegated to second place. He was living out some of those dreams now, but he'd always miss baseball, and Jin wished there was something he could do about it.
"Watch the group on the left."
"Huh?" Kame's sudden muttered instruction caught Jin by surprise. "Which group?"
"The one with the itchy trigger fingers."
Jin sneaked a peek. The uniformed party were glaring openly at the others, now, hands twitching over their weapons. "Why do I always end up in firefights at restaurants?"
"You're not the only one. Jin, tell me if that uniform looks familiar to you at all?"
White shirt, black pants and jacket, cuffs rolled up to the elbows the way Kame had... "LIPS?"
Kame nodded. "Maybe. There's a Jovian branch, unless things have changed since I quit. These guys might be part of it."
Lunar/InterPlanetary Security acted as a police force for crimes between the stars of the Sol System, upholding the law wherever lunar or planetary borders were crossed. Kame's career as a LIPS officer had been brief and not particularly satisfying, but it had led him to Jin. Admittedly it had been via a holographic shootout, a tractor beam, a stolen diamond and a drugged-up interrogation that had left Kame stuck with a chair fetish, but still...
Jin smiled around a mouthful of bread. "Maybe the other group are smuggling Trans-Saturnian rum or something."
"It's a good spot to make a deal," Kame said. "Public place, lots of people, decent food...these sandwiches are actually pretty good. Is this real chicken?"
"Yeah, I don't know how long they-"
The remainder of Jin's reply was drowned out by a roar from the table of potential felons. Not, thankfully, a prelude to a gunfight, but to a celebration, as the seven of them began cheering and high-fiving each other. Kame followed their gaze to the screen and discovered why.
"Must be out-of-towners," he said. "Or maybe they just hate the Yankees. You remember me telling you they were beaten lately by the Lunar City Lunatics? Those are highlights from the game."
Jin tried to divide his attention between the screen, his lunch and all the armed diners. It wasn't easy. Good thing he hadn't bought pasta. "That batter in the no.2 jersey - is that the same guy they keep showing? He's amazing!"
"Yeah, same guy. He's obviously the reason for their sudden change of luck." Kame's tone was a mix of awe and envy, with a hint of sadness for what might've been. "Look at that home run!"
Almost everyone at the tables was watching the screen now - and those who weren't were hardcore diners, staring only into their plates, as if the secrets of the universe might be hiding under the next slice of pizza. Jin couldn't be sure, but he thought some of them were drooling, and not over the food.
In the final shot of the clip, no.2 turned to the camera, flashed the crowd a double peace sign, and treated them to a grin so full of warmth and enthusiasm you could've started a fire with it. Half the diners sighed dreamily at the sight.
Kame didn't.
Neither did Jin, but then, he got to see Kame smile like that all the time.
"Why? How?" Kame gasped, lost for words. "Who?"
"You," Jin said quietly. "It's you."
The name on the screen confirmed it. Kamenashi Kazuya. Same kanji, same age, same bright smile.
Live coverage of a low-gravity golf game replaced the baseball highlights and the crowd lost interest in everything but the next mouthful. Kame ignored his lunch, still staring sightlessly at the screen and his own fading ghost.
"Doppelganger?" Jin suggested. "They say everyone in the universe has one."
Jin's voice snapped Kame out of it. "With the exact same name? I don't think so, Jin. What are the odds of that?"
"Better than the odds of you secretly having a career as the star player of a baseball team based on Earth's moon, when we haven't even been near the Sol System in ages!"
"You might have a point," Kame conceded. "Those clips were from a few weeks ago. I couldn't be in two places at once, even if we could increase the KAT-TUN's teleport range."
"It's not one of your brothers pretending to be you, is it? You guys look pretty similar in your photos."
Kame was beginning to feel sick, and he didn't think the chicken sandwich had anything to do with it. "They're not that good. I'm not even sure I'm that good."
Jin shrugged. "Evidently you are."
"He is."
Both captains turned round to discover one of the brightly-dressed women standing by their table, hand no longer gripping her blaster and enough allure in her smile and deep, dark eyes to make a dead man sit up and take notice.
"He's that good at everything," she purred. "Aren't you, Kamenashi?"
Jin would've been suspicious, had Kame not been so obviously in the dark as to why this strange woman was reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. There was no mistaking his stunned expression for encouragement, or even recognition.
"Do I know you?" Kame asked hesitantly.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten already." The allure faded slightly. "But I suppose you did drink a lot of wine that night. I'll forgive you."
"That's very kind of you, I'm sure, but who are you?"
Jin wanted to know the same thing. "And why are you cozying up to my Kame?"
"Yours?" The woman arched an eyebrow. "I did hear rumours he'd taken up with some handsome young thing. Do you play baseball too?"
Kame didn't like the way the stranger began appraising Jin, running her eyes over every inch of him and mentally grading his appeal. "Only with me."
"He doesn't bat for my team, then? Pity." Her eyes abandoned Jin mid-leer.
"Hang on a minute!" Jin dropped his protest when Kame elbowed him in the side.
"Don't argue," he muttered to Jin. "Let's not complicate things."
"But there's nothing complicated about this at all, sweetie." Their unwanted guest regarded them with something approaching pity. "You said if I had any more of the good stuff, you wouldn't mind a taste." She lowered her voice. "My friends and I just so happen to have a couple of bottles in our possession...if you're willing to pay. Got milk?"
Kame worked hard to keep the surprise from his face. Jin's casual, offhand comment had been correct - Trans-Saturnian rum smugglers, indeed. Those who drank the wretched stuff craved only three things: more rum, money to buy more rum, and, for reasons known only to the ring-hopping bandits who'd created it in the first place, vast quantities of milk.
"Not interested." Even when he'd been making a career out of flouting the law, he hadn't been one for illegal substances. Legal poisons were safer. "Giving up alcohol. Doctor's orders."
"Oh, I don't think so, honey." Silken tones became steel. "We sealed the deal with a kiss. My friends over there were so looking forward to meeting you."
Jin didn't like the way the aforementioned friends were rising from their chairs, faces grim. "They don't look so delighted about it."
"Your friends will have to settle for scamming someone else," Kame said. "I said I'm not interested."
He picked up his tray, intending to dispose of the contents in the correct bins, but both he and the remains of his lunch were sent flying by a rough hand reaching past to point a blaster at his new acquaintance.
The owner of the hand, Kame noted on his way to meet the floor, had a LIPS insignia pinned to his uniform. Though the officer's face was unfamiliar, his attitude brought back many unpleasant memories. "Tessa, Tessa, Tessa. Didn't you hear me the last time I told you not to do business here?"
Another pair of LIPS officers approached from behind, sandwiching Jin between them when he tried to duck out. "Not without giving us a cut, sweetheart," the shorter of the two said.
One of Tessa's buddies pulled a nerve disruptor from his jacket. "You want your cut, Kumori? You can come right over here and take it."
The nerve disruptor had an immediate effect on everyone who noticed it. Ten seconds later, anyone who could get clear had done so, and the rest had ducked behind counters, overturned tables and potted plants of reasonable girth. No one wanted to be hit by a stray blast from a nerve disruptor. They were illegal for a good reason.
Jin hoped the LIPS officers next to him weren't planning on using him for cover. "Uh...since we're not buying and no one's making any deals, how about you both put your guns down and finish your lunches?"
"Huh?" Kumori seemed surprised to find Jin still there. "Hey, don't you work for Kitagawa?"
"Not anymore, he doesn't." Kame scrambled to his feet, silently apologising to the cleaning staff for leaving his tray on the floor, and pushed through to grab Jin's arm. "And we were just leaving."
"Uh uh." Tessa shook her head. "We had a deal, Kamenashi. Didn't anyone ever teach you not to break your word to a lady?"
The LIPS officers snickered. "She's no lady," Kumori said. "By any definition of the word."
"And for someone who's supposed to uphold the law, you're not exactly a shining example yourself," Nerve Disruptor Guy said.
Kame could've told him LIPS officers were hardly the most upstanding bunch in the universe. "We don't have a deal, I don't know who you are, and I don't want any trouble." He excused himself, beginning a slow retreat.
"I don't like cheats." Tessa's gun came up, aiming straight at Kame.
It was obvious this argument had been going on long before the KAT-TUN had docked at the station. Kame had no intention of sticking around to see who won. "And I don't like getting involved in someone else's fight. Come on, Jin."
Jin had been reaching under his jacket for his own blaster; Kame caught his eye to convince him that this would be a very bad idea. Anyone who happened to be holding a weapon was a potential target. Fortunately for Kame, Tessa never did get to pull the trigger on him - Kumori fired first.
"Whatever you do, don't shoot anyone," Kame muttered as he dragged Jin through a cluster of overturned tables. "I think they've been looking for an excuse to open fire on each other for a long time, and we just provided it."
Jin ducked just in time to avoid an unwanted haircut. "Aren't we nice?"
Shots flew across the food court, separating tables from chairs, straws from sodas, and hungry diners from their lunches. Fear did wonders to cure the appetite, however. Running for one's life generally took priority over finishing those last few spoons of curry.
Stuck in the middle of all this, the two JE Fleet captains attempted to work their way towards the far edge of the food court, hoping to reach the exit to the shopping complex. Fate, better known as the Red Spot Terminal security team, intervened.
Jin hated being stunned.